


Spin the Coin

by maria_j_harper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fix-It, I just wanted to write something where everyone was happy, I'm Sorry, Literally just idiots figuring out they're in love, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, What am I doing with my life?, shameless fluff, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 03:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13673631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maria_j_harper/pseuds/maria_j_harper
Summary: “Merlin, I think it’s magic,” Morgana told him, eyes wide, voice broken with fear.Merlin stood facing the door, turning his head to look at her as he fought with himself over what to say. The dragon said he shouldn’t trust her, that her destiny was wickedness, but he saw no wickedness in her sea green gaze, only trust and confusion as she desperately sought comfort. He made a snap decision. “Have you heard the prophecy, of the once and future king?” he asked softly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a shameless fix-it fic and then spiraled out of control, hence the two chapters. First chapter is all just self indulgent fix-it with Merthur thrown in there because. The second chapter is basically a compressed rom-com because gay happy Morgana gives me life.

“Merlin, I think it’s magic,” Morgana told him, eyes wide, voice broken with fear.  
Merlin stood facing the door, turning his head to look at her as he fought with himself over what to say. The dragon said he shouldn’t trust her, that her destiny was wickedness, but he saw no wickedness in her sea green gaze, only trust and confusion as she desperately sought comfort. He made a snap decision. “Have you heard the prophecy, of the once and future king?” he asked softly.  
She shook her head. “No. I’ve heard no prophecies, prophecies are too much like sorcery for Uther’s tastes.”  
“It is said… it is said that one day soon, there will be a king that unites all of Albion in peace. It is said that this king will reconcile the old religion with the new, and bring magic back to the land, and all the people of Albion will live in harmony, sorcerer and normal folk alike. It is said that Arthur’s destiny is to be that king, Morgana. That’s… that’s why I came to Camelot, to protect him, until the time came for him to take the throne.”  
Morgana gasped, and her skirts rustled around her as she sat heavily on the bed. The promise of safety was something she hadn’t hoped for, he realized. He gave her a warm, reassuring smile.  
“He’s not ready, yet. He needs to be able to take the throne in his own time. Every day I wish for that time to come sooner. I can see it, waiting in all its shining glory, the day that Arthur becomes king. The day we no longer have to live in fear. But I also know that if I try to push it, it’ll only ruin things in the long run.”  
“That answers the question of why you haven’t done away with Uther, then.”  
“I try to help the innocent people he captures as much as I can, but I can do no more, not yet. Arthur will set things to rights, one day, I know he will.”  
Morgana’s eyes fell on him with a calculating look. “You have a great deal of faith in him.”  
Merlin shrugged. “I can see the king he’s going to be. It’s right there, waiting to come out, like… you know how the best carvers say they see the figures they carve in the wood, or stone, and all they have to do is cut away everything that isn’t the carving they see? It’s like that. He’s still got a few rough edges, but I can see what he’s going to be, and it’s beautiful.”  
Morgana smiled at him slowly. “I see. Well even if I don’t necessarily trust Arthur, I think I can trust you, Merlin.”  
Merlin beamed at her. “Good.”

* * *

“Morgana, please talk to me,” Merlin pleaded. Ever since Morgause had arrived, Morgana had become increasingly distant. She had fought with him angrily when he prevented Arthur from killing Uther, shouting that if he’d just let the witch’s plan run its course, Uther’s reign of terror would be over. He had watched her becoming darker and darker as the frustration of living in fear weighed on her soul, and he worried that he was on the precipice of losing her forever.  
“Go fawn over your golden prince, Merlin,” she said dismissively, but he could hear the pain behind the cruelty of her tone. “Go wait for your ‘someday,’ Morgause has a plan to set things to rights _now.”_  
Merlin frowned, but left her, seeing that she was now beyond his reach. Perhaps not out of reach for everyone though…  
“Arthur, I’m worried about Morgana,” he said, immediately after bursting into Arthur’s room. Arthur looked up from the papers he’d been looking over at his desk, the grain reports from the western border, Merlin hoped, as that had been needing his attention for the past three days and he was tired of nagging. Morgana was in need of more immediate attention, though.  
“Yes, I know, Merlin. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you mooning over her, getting her alone whenever you get the chance,” Arthur gave him a knowing smirk.  
“It-it’s not like that, really! She’s just- she’s been needing a friend, and I’ve wanted to be there for her. But lately she’s been getting worse and worse. You’re closer to her than I am, you’ve known her far longer, I think you might reach her better than I can right now.”  
Arthur gave Merlin a long, assessing look. “You know Merlin, you’re a very difficult man to puzzle out,” he told him, brow knitting together.  
“Just come on, will you? Please?”  
Arthur sighed, but stood. “Very well, lead on.”  
Merlin strode quickly towards Morgana’s chambers, Arthur at his heels. He knocked softly. “Morgana? It’s Merlin. Please, you know I only want to help.”  
There was a long beat of silence, then, just as Arthur went to knock as well, the door snicked open and Morgana opened it warily. Her eyes widened when she saw Arthur, and her fingers tightened on the door as though to close it again. Arthur put his foot in the door. “Morgana,” he said, tone warning. “Let us in.”  
Merlin watched as her gaze hardened and he thought she would slam the door in Arthur’s face, but then she stepped back. “Fine. Please, my lord, do come in.” Her tone was sharp, but Arthur entered the room without waiting for a second invitation, and Merlin trailed in behind him. Morgana shut the door, and put her back to it. “So, to what do I owe this pleasure?”  
“I thought you could tell me,” Arthur said, looking first to her, then to Merlin. “Something has been troubling you lately, what is it?”  
Morgana looked to Merlin, who gave her what he hoped was a reassuring nod. “Tell him, it’s ok.”  
“Why don’t you tell him?” she snapped. “If you trust him so much, why don’t you tell him everything?”  
Merlin winced, glancing to Arthur. “He knows you better. He cares about you. It’ll be better, if he hears it from you.”  
“He’s right here, thank you very much. He’s also developing a growing suspicion he might have to flog his manservant for knocking up the king’s ward!” Arthur declared agitatedly.  
“What?” Merlin and Morgana both squawked.  
“No, it’s nothing like that!” Merlin protested hastily.  
“Really, Arthur?” Morgana exclaimed, with so much indignant derision that it wounded Merlin’s pride a little.  
“Well then, what’s going on here, pray tell?” Arthur demanded.  
“I have a sister, and a brother,” Morgana blurted out.  
“What?” Merlin asked. “That’s… why you’re upset?”  
“Well my brother is and inconsiderate arse,” Morgana admitted, with a spark of humor that made Merlin grin broadly. He’d missed this Morgana.  
“Anyone I know?”  
“Yes. You know both my siblings. Morgause is my sister.”  
“Your sister?” Arthur asked, reeling.  
“Yes. She’s been very kind to me, Arthur. She’s the one who told me the circumstances of my birth. It seems that Gorlois was away at war too much, and when my mother grew lonely, she was comforted in her loneliness by Uther.” She gave him a tense smile.  
Arthur took a step backward, resting his weight against the nearest wall. “You mean to say…?”  
“It seems you have a sister, brother dearest.”  
Arthur gave her a solemn look, but when he spoke his tone was warm. “I have always had a sister, Morgana. She’s a right pain too, you know. Always insisting I do things like hold up to my ideals, and stand up for what I believe in. I have been unutterably lucky, to have her in my life.”  
Morgana smiled, though her eyelashes beaded with tears. She crossed hastily over to Arthur and embraced him. “Oh Arthur!” She buried her face in his shoulder. He held her in return, smiling warmly at her as they parted. Then he glanced over to Merlin, who was standing back with his hands clasped behind him, watching and grinning like a loon.  
“You knew about this, Merlin?”  
Merlin shook his head. “I knew she was connected to Morgause, but no, I didn’t know about this.”  
Arthur dropped his gaze back to Morgana’s face. “Is there something else, then?”  
Morgana looked up into his face searchingly. “Do you love me, Arthur? Will you protect me? Even if there are things about me you can’t understand?”  
Arthur took her hand in his. “You are my sister, of course I’ll protect you.”  
“Even from our father?”  
“If I have to,” Arthur agreed.  
“Remember my dreams?” She took her hand back and traced her fingers over the bracelet Morgause had gifted her with. “Remember the fires?”  
“Morgana… They were just dreams. They were just accidents.” Arthur tried to sound firm, but there was fear in his eyes, fear for what Morgana would tell him next, because once she said it outright, there was no going back and pretending ignorance.  
“They weren’t. I tried so hard to pretend they were, but they weren’t, Arthur. I was so scared. Morgause helped me learn to control it, but I couldn’t stop having it any more than I could stop having a heartbeat. I have magic, Arthur. It’s not evil like Uther says, it just is. I see the future, sometimes. I can stop those that would harm me without having to draw a blade. I can use it for good, Arthur, if given the chance.”  
Arthur stared into Morgana’s face for a long moment. “Magic corrupts,” he said, but he didn’t sound sure.  
“A lie told by a grieving old man driven mad by the loss of his wife when it was his own damn fault to begin with,” Morgana said scornfully. “Magic doesn’t corrupt, fear corrupts. It’s fear of persecution and execution that drives those with magic to attack us, not cruelty. Camelot has hunted down magic-kind for over twenty years, of course they’ll retaliate! I’ve been tempted myself, I won’t lie. There was a moment, not very long ago, I nearly drove a dagger into Uther’s back. I couldn’t then, but that was before I knew he was my father, too cowardly to acknowledge me as his daughter. Every time he calls me his ward, I feel the ghost of that dagger in my hand.”  
“Killing him isn’t the answer, Morgana,” Arthur chided.  
“You sound like Merlin. No wonder he follows you like a spaniel.”  
Arthur glanced at Merlin, who took that as his cue to speak up. “Uther is wrong, but I can’t hate him more than I pity him. There are better ways to deal with him than regicide.”  
“I agree. Give me three days.” Arthur lifted his chin with determination. “Trust me Morgana, I won’t let any harm come to you.”  
Morgana made a small sound in the back of her throat that sounded like a choked back sob and embraced him gratefully.

* * *

Merlin didn’t like being kept in the dark, so the fact that the next three days seemed to consist entirely of being asked to arrange meetings with Arthur and various knights and council members, then being told to leave the room while these meetings took place, rankled. It might have been alright if Arthur would tell him why he needed privacy, but all that he would say when questioned was “You’ll find out when you need to know, Merlin.”  
Then on the third day, Arthur requested an audience with the king. He requested the presence of each of the knights he’d spoken with, and all of the council members. Merlin accompanied him to the audience hall, trying to ignore the tension in his gut that warned him that whatever was happening, it had the potential for disaster.  
Once the doors of the audience hall were closed and the last attendee had arrived, Uther looked to his son regally. “Well, Arthur, what is it? Have you something to tell me?”  
“I have, my lord. As you know, I have always trusted your word and your decrees. However, I have made a discovery, recently, that for me has drawn something into question. This is not the first time I have expressed my doubts about your opinions on magic, but it is the first time I have felt it necessary to breach those doubts to you in a public forum. This is because, all other happenings and revelations aside, I have discovered that there is someone who I know to be good of heart that practices magic. Someone we both trust and admire. Someone we both love dearly.”  
“Arthur, no!” Merlin protested. He couldn’t help it, not looking at the betrayal evident on Morgana’s face.  
“Hush Merlin, it’ll be alright. He wouldn’t execute his own daughter. Would you, sire?”  
Uther looked like if he weren’t already sitting down he might have collapsed. He looked to Morgana, face a sea of emotion. “Is this true? You are a sorceress?”  
“I’ve never used magic to harm anyone! I never would! Please, my lord, I didn’t… I never set out to learn magic, it just came to me. Will you punish me for something that I have no control over? It’s… magic, it’s not only a weapon. It can be used for good. I can help Camelot, if you let me. How will you fend off magical attacks from other kingdoms without someone who can meet them at their level?”  
“We have fended off magical attack with only our might and our wits before,” Uther said with dignity.  
“Is that what you think?” Morgana said with scornful amusement. “That the questing beast, which Gaius said could only be killed with magic, died all on its own? That the creature that poisoned our water was slain by sword, without sorcery? Magic has always been a part of Camelot, working from the shadows, coming to our aid when the need has been greatest. But how long will it stay, I wonder, if even your own daughter isn’t safe from your lunacy?”  
Merlin bit back a beaming grin, hearing Morgana speak about his accomplishments. Arthur gave her a long, puzzled look. “Was that all you?”  
Morgana shook her head. “I’m not strong enough for that.”  
“What… about the light? In the cave? With the morteus flower?”  
“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“Enough!” Uther cried out. “Morgana… I am sorry I never told you I was your father. I… wanted to preserve the memory and honor of Gorlois, may he rest in peace. Arthur is right, I cannot kill you. There… is a monastery to the north, where they help those with magic to purge it from their body. I will arrange for you to go there by tomorrow.”  
Morgana looked at him, heartbreak on her face. “No! Please! My magic… now that I know how to use it, it’s not something I can give up! It’s a part of me! It’s beautiful, and good! I will never use it except to help people, I swear! Don’t send me away! Don’t try to take it from me!”  
Uther’s face almost matched hers in grief. “Magic cannot be used for good. Even with the best of intentions, it can only cause destruction. Sir Leon, Sir Lancelot, escort the Lady Morgana to her room until she can be taken northward.”  
“Sir Leon, Sir Lancelot, stay where you are,” Arthur snapped.  
“How dare you-” Uther protested.  
“Lord Monmouth, I hereby declare that I, Arthur Pendragon, do challenge the right and fitness to rule of King Uther Pendragon, on the basis of unjust law and loss of mental faculty to obsession and madness. In keeping with tradition, I now call a meeting of the council, who may vote upon this challenge. In event of a tied vote, I will gladly engage him in single honorable combat to settle this challenge.” Arthur was a blaze of confidence and fury. “I had hoped, father, that Morgana might make you see sense, as she has done so many times before, but now I see that you can see no reason beyond your obsession. I will not continue to murder that which has the potential to bring so much good to our kingdom. She can see the future, father! Do you understand how many lives in our kingdom might be saved by that? ...No, you see only your own hatred and guilt.” He threw his glove at Uther’s feet. Merlin fought the urge to burst into applause.  
“You love your sister, and that is natural, but don’t be seduced by the power magic offers. It is evil. You may be under an enchantment even now and not know it.”  
Geoffrey Monmouth raised his hand. “The council has been summoned. Let us go to the council room and make the vote.”  
The debate went on for many hours. Some of the council members were in favor of legalizing magic, while others said that the only magic permitted should be in service to the crown. Some were stalwartly against the idea, though a couple of them Morgana managed to persuade, by talking to them about how much more profitable their fiefs could be with magic to aid them. The fact that she leaned forward on her elbows to give them a good view of her cleavage as she spoke to them probably didn’t hurt.  
Arthur wanted magic to be legal, except when used to harm others, if not in self defence or military service. Speaking of military service, he wanted a group of magic users sworn to the service of the crown, not unlike the knights. Morgana beamed at him, suggesting that she wouldn’t mind organizing such a group.

* * *

Uther was not kept in a dungeon. He was the king once, after all. He lived in the same rooms as ever, only now two knights stood outside his door. By necessity his contact with the outside world was limited, particularly with the council members that had argued against magic. Morgana visited him, though each time more days passed between her visits.  
Morgana’s ceremony to name her Grand Sorceress, as well as Crown Princess, heir to King Arthur, took place a week after Arthur’s coronation. She looked radiant and regal, and clutched her brother’s hands like she was afraid she might wake up to find this had all been a dream if she let go.  
As she rose from the floor where she had knelt while being sworn in, she looked out to those who had gathered to witness.  
“There is still much fear and mistrust, on both sides of Camelot’s long war with magic,” she said. “I am so happy to be here, to be a symbol of the peace that we hope to strive for in the coming years. Magic is capable of doing great harm, that is true, but it’s also capable of so much more. So for my first act as Grand Sorceress, I would like to name the First Sorcerer to the King. This is the person who first taught me that magic could be good, who guided me on my path to be standing here before you all today, even as he continued to protect you all from the shadows. He has done more for Camelot and the crown than I think anyone knows, even me. Merlin Emrys, please, step forward.”  
Merlin froze. He stared at Morgana. Everyone stared at him. Suddenly Arthur snorted. “Morgana. Surely you’re joking! Merlin? Really?”  
Morgana ignored him, and reached out a hand to Merlin. “Come on Merlin, it’s time to step out into the light. Show them. Show him.”  
Merlin took a shaky step forward, and then another. He didn’t so much kneel when he reached Morgana as he collapsed messily to the floor.  
“Do you, Merlin, son of Hunith, who is known to the druids as Emrys, swear your life, loyalty, and magic, to the service of King Arthur, Camelot, and all the lands and people therein?”  
“I do.”  
“Do you swear to defend crown and kingdom to the full extent of your power, and to never use your magic to harm or manipulate any except at your king’s command?”  
“I do.”  
“Do you swear to conduct yourself with the same rules of chivalry expected of the realm’s knights, and to place the needs of the kingdom above all else, even your own life?”  
“I do.”  
“Then prove your magic, and rise a sorcerer of Camelot.”  
Merlin bowed his head, running over spells he could use. His heart pounded. Suddenly all the spells he had ever studied fled his mind, and the only ones he could think of were the awful ones. Turning Morgana into a statue would hardly be the best way to start off his oath, after all. He noticed the torches around the hall, flickering warmly, and got an idea.  
He cried out the words of the spell that made an image of a dragon out of sparks, throwing his hands outward and pulling from every torch in the room. Using intent alone, he magnified the spell, making the image much larger than he was practiced with, the size of the Great Dragon himself. It flapped in the air above the audience and roared, swooped upward and did a circuit of the room, then soared down to land just behind Merlin. It struck the pose of the Pendragon crest, then bowed deeply to Arthur, as Merlin rose and did the same.  
Arthur gaped, forgetting the audience, forgetting everything else in the room. “Merlin?” he asked, voice soft and a little hoarse.  
Merlin dispelled the dragon, letting it dissipate into a shower of sparks that flew through the air and then faded. “My king.” He turned back to Morgana, and bowed to her as well. “My lady.”  
Morgana placed her hand over his heart. “Merlin, son of Hunith, who is known to the druids as Emrys, I name you First Sorcerer to the King. May you serve him well.” Then she took her hand away, and winked at him.  
“Thank you,” Merlin said, trying to convey to her just how much she had just given him, and how grateful he was for all of it.  
The ceremony over, the audience slowly began to filter out. Arthur stayed on his throne, watching them all regally until enough of them had left that he could get away with rising. “With me, Merlin,” he commanded, storming off towards his chambers.  
Merlin hurried after him, growing more worried as the silence between them stretched. As it turned out though, Arthur was only waiting to get him in private before he had his outburst, and no sooner was the door to his chambers closed than he was shouting.  
“What in the seven hells was that, Merlin?”  
“I’m pretty sure that was me finally getting some recognition around here for once,” Merlin replied cheekily.  
“Merlin. You’re not really magic. You can’t be magic, Merlin.”  
“I assure you, I really can.” Merlin lit Arthur’s fireplace just to prove he could, letting his eyes flash gold for Arthur to see.  
“You’ve been living in Camelot for years!” Arthur protested.  
“So?”  
“So, what in the name of everything holy were you doing here, knowing that my father would have killed you if you were discovered?”  
Merlin took a deep breath. “Ealdor isn’t the best place for magic users either. Magic isn’t illegal, but there’s nothing stopping the local lord from imprisoning you and forcing you to do magic for his own selfish plans. My friend Will -he wasn’t really a sorcerer, that was me- but he found out I had magic because I couldn’t control it, and my mum sent me here because she hoped Gaius would be able to help me learn how.”  
“Well clearly you have a pretty good understanding of magic now,” Arthur said, still disgruntled. “What are you still doing here?”  
Merlin thought about how to answer that, and then said, “There’s someone else who can explain that a lot better than I can. It’s probably about time you met him anyways. Come on.” He had meant to lead Arthur out to the field where he usually summoned the dragon on foot, but was so eager to introduce Arthur to his old friend that he sort of took a shortcut by accident.  
“Did- did you just transport us…” Arthur looked around, found Camelot, and calculated, “Two miles in a single moment?”  
“Yeah, looks like I did. Whoops.”  
“Whoops? Good gods, how much of an idiot are you?”  
Merlin ignored his question, too excited to get bogged down by bickering. “You thought the little light show in the great hall was impressive, wait until you see this!” He shouted the ancient tongue of the dragonlords into the sky, asking Kilgharrah to come meet with him. Moments later, the air swirled with turbulent wingbeats as the dragon landed in the clearing.  
Arthur reached for his sword, but before he could draw it, Kilgharrah spoke. “You are a curious creature indeed, young warlock. Do you know what your actions have wrought?”  
Merlin looked to Arthur with amusement. “That’s dragon riddle speak for ‘now look what you did!’ Nothing more than a nagging old mum, this one.”  
Neither Arthur nor the dragon seemed amused. Kilgharrah growled warningly. “You have altered the course of Fate, young warlock. By aiding the witch Morgana, you have altered everything. Fate is like a tapestry, ever being woven, and it takes but one strand to change the pattern completely. What will follow now, not even I can say.”  
“But everything you told me when we first met, that’s still true, isn’t it?” Merlin asked.  
“Yes. You and Arthur are still bound by Fate as ever you were, and as ever you shall be, it would take more than a single loose thread to unravel that bond.”  
“Then it’s still my destiny to protect him, and to help him create the Albion promised by the prophecies?”  
Kilgharrah gave a keen look to Arthur, and then back to Merlin. “That is what I have been trying to say, young warlock. I do not know if the Albion promised will still come to pass. It is possible. As for your responsibility to Arthur, you have already sworn him your protection, haven’t you?”  
“He has,” Arthur said, finally seeming to find the courage to speak up, where before he had simply been boggled by the spectacle of a dragon having a familiar conversation with his manserv- that is, with Merlin.  
“So, with that destiny set, it is possible that other bonds may have the chance to form. Many things are possible now.”  
“Including a better future, where I don’t have to worry about Morgana or Mordred?” Merlin asked hopefully.  
“I think… if Morgana truly has become an ally rather than a threat, other threats will emerge. Fate does not take kindly to being thwarted, and I suspect that there will be difficult times ahead.”  
“Right, wouldn’t want life to get too easy, would we? That would be boring!” Merlin said sarcastically.  
“Agreed,” Arthur said, smiling like he meant it. “And besides, Camelot has two powerful sorcerers now, doesn’t it? Surely there’s nothing Fate can throw at us that we can’t handle!”  
Kilgharrah smiled. “No, perhaps not. You know, I think I rather like you, Arthur Pendragon, for all that you tried to cut me with a sword.”  
Arthur sputtered. “That was you?”  
“Camelot had been my prison for a great many years. Can you truly blame me for wanting to see it in flames?”  
“Enough, Kilgharrah!” Merlin shouted, stepping between them. “If I hadn’t relied on you so much for your knowledge of magic, I would have killed you that day. Innocent people died in your fury! I won’t hear you justifying a massacre!”  
Kilgharrah rumbled, slightly contritely. “Yes, I know. Just as you know that I don’t quite have all your human moral ideals. I will not attack Camelot again, nor any other innocent human, because you have asked me not to. If your king has a problem with that though, I’d be glad to pick up where we left off.” He grinned menacingly at Arthur.  
“You will not harm him!” Merlin commanded. He repeated himself in the tongue of the dragonlords, binding Kilgharrah with golden magic against doing anything to cause Arthur harm.  
Kilgharrah roared at him, but then seemed to calm. “Well, as a protector, you certainly play your part well.”  
“It’s not a part that I play, Kilgharrah. He is my friend. I protect him because I believe in him, and because I couldn’t bear to see harm come to him.”  
“Just as it should be. You are still two sides of the same coin, after all.”  
Arthur was staring at Merlin now. “Two sides of the same coin?” he repeated.  
“Yes. Balance and turning point, separate and yet incomplete alone, wind and fire, falcon and dragon. Surely you’ve noticed?” Kilgharrah asked, amused.  
Arthur nodded slowly. “I think I know what you mean.”  
Merlin gave him an incredulous look. “What are you talking about? He’s speaking in complete nonsense!”  
Arthur frowned. “I’ll explain it to you later.”  
“Is that all you required of me, young warlock? There are some cattle just over the border in Mercia just waiting for me to snatch them up.”  
“Could you tell me again what you told me when we first met, so Arthur can hear it?” Merlin asked.  
The dragon grumbled, but repeated everything. “Of course, as I said, most of that is moot now, or at very least in doubt.”  
Merlin glanced to Arthur. “No, you’re wrong. Morgana will help unite Albion. It will be even better than what Fate had planned. We’ll make sure of it.”  
“What happened to the insecure little sorcerer who wandered down into my cave asking for my help every other evening?” Kilgharrah teased.  
“He grew up, and saved the kingdom, also he just stopped having to lie to his best friend thanks to that change of fate. Whatever follows can’t ruin that for him.” Merlin beamed.  
“I see. Safe travels then, Merlin.” Kilgharrah took off, climbing quickly into the sky and disappearing into its darkening blue depths as night was setting in.  
There was a beat of silence, and Merlin realized Arthur was staring at him. “What?”  
“Nothing,” Arthur said quickly, looking away, unwilling to admit to the swirl of emotions he was feeling about having Merlin indirectly confess the level of his dedication towards his friend. “So, ruling all of Albion, then? With you by my side?”  
“Always,” Merlin promised.  
“And that’s why you let me make you clean out the stables, even though you could have very easily turned me into a toad?”  
“Well spending the whole day pampering the horses isn’t that bad,” Merlin said with a grin. “And you’re a bit like fungus. Smelly and off-putting, but you grow on people.”  
“Oi! You can’t talk to your king like that, Merlin, no matter how many spectacular magic tricks you can pull out of your hat!”  
Merlin giggled at him. “Just try and stop me then!” Arthur tried to cuff him about the head, but his eyes flashed gold and his hand rebounded about an inch away from Merlin’s ear. Merlin stuck his tongue out at Arthur tauntingly, and stood still, amused, as Arthur kept trying to land some kind of blow, and kept being intercepted by the magic forcefield. Then Arthur tried reaching out slowly for Merlin, which passed through, as the forcefield worked based on reflecting force. In this way, he put his hand on Merlin’s side, which earned him a curious look, until he began tickling Merlin. Merlin yelped, losing concentration on the spell, and then it was game over.  
In the next minute, he was sprawled on the ground gasping “Stop, stop!” between fits of laughter as Arthur tickled him.  
“Do you yield?” Arthur demanded.  
“I yield, I yield!” Merlin cried, squirming.  
Arthur let up, standing and offering Merlin a hand. “The most powerful sorcerer of all time, and beaten by Pendragon guile,” he teased smugly.  
“I could still take you apart with less than one blow. I just rather got used to having you around, so I’d prefer not to,” Merlin said with as much dignity as he could muster. Then he grabbed Arthur’s arm and transported them back to Arthur’s chambers, just to put his king off balance.  
Arthur blinked and staggered a little. “Ok, that is going to take some getting used to. I mean it’s useful, don’t get me wrong, but it’s disorienting.”  
“I know,” Merlin agreed. “That was my first time doing it on purpose, and second time doing it at all. I don’t think I’m actually supposed to be able to do that? I remember reading something about transportation, and it’s supposed to be practically impossible.”  
“But then how did you do it?”  
“I don’t know! I was excited, and I was thinking how long the trip would take and wishing we were already there so I wouldn’t have to put up with endless questions on the way there, and suddenly there we were!”  
“You did something impossible, just so you wouldn’t have to listen to me asking you questions?”  
“...Yes?”  
Arthur laughed. “Merlin, you’re incredible.”  
“...An incredible imbecile?” Merlin suggested, because that sounded more like something Arthur would normally say.  
“That too, also just incredible.”  
Merlin blushed. “Right, well do you want me to help you out of your ceremonial clothes now?”  
Arthur gave him an unbelieving look. “Merlin.You’re a court sorcerer now, not a manservant. You don’t have to help me with anything anymore. I mean, not the servant stuff, anyway. Your job now is to help me with the sorts of things the knights help me with. And Morgana, obviously, you help her too. It’s going to be a lot of work, reconciling all the violence that my father has created. You’ll be quite busy.”  
Merlin heard a faint ringing in his ears, likely the aftershock of his world crumbling down around him. “Right… I guess that’ll take some getting used to. Will you be getting a new manservant then?”  
“I don’t think so,” Arthur said as he quite casually began taking off his ceremonial outfit himself. “I managed perfectly well before you came along, I can take care of myself, whatever you might think, and there’s always maids about if I need something. Besides, after dealing with you for so long, I don’t think I’d know what to do with a manservant who was halfway capable.”  
Merlin swallowed, and forced a smile. “Well you’d better not start thinking you can do without me. I still expect to be dragged along on every single one of your stupid hunting expeditions and ridiculous life or death quests, and don’t you dare try to deal with something that’s bothering you on your own, you’re rubbish at it, and talking to me about it is the only reason anything has ever gotten done around here.”  
“Merlin, just because you’re not a manservant anymore doesn’t mean you’ve stopped being my friend. In fact just the opposite, you now actually have a status where you might actually get away with your atrocious manner toward nobility.” Arthur’s smile was fond, a steady presence against the brittle cheerfulness of Merlin’s. He stepped toward Merlin slowly. “You can still invade my privacy like you always have, the only change will be that you won’t have to haul up my bath water.”  
“Um, actually…” Merlin summoned Arthur’s bath, complete with already steaming water. It smelled of lavender. “It’s no trouble, really.”  
Arthur looked at the bath, and then back at Merlin. “Is this how you did all your chores when I wasn’t looking?”  
“Um, yes.”  
Arthur let out a small chuckle. “Perhaps I should just make a decree, that the First Sorcerer to the King, which means you, Merlin, is to operate as a personal magical bodyguard to the king. And that if he happens to also occasionally magic up some bath water, well, it’s saved someone else a great deal of work, so who is anyone to complain? Which I suppose means, since you were already my magical bodyguard anyway, the only thing that will really change is what I introduce you as when we go places. Does that seem amenable to you?”  
Merlin let out a breath, and then gave Arthur a real smile. “Yes, sounds perfect. I wouldn’t have it any other way, sire.”  
“Don’t call me that! It’s unnerving.”  
“Says the man who subjected me to tickle torture when I didn’t address him properly!”  
“You never address me properly when we’re alone, Merlin, that’s part of why I like you.”  
Merlin’s smile grew. “It… It is?”  
“It didn’t start out as the main reason. I think I could turn your fungus comment around and say it grew on me. Or rather, it’s just another part of everything that you are, so yes, I like it.” Arthur made an encompassing gesture.  
Merlin took in a sharp breath. “Did you just, admittedly in a very roundabout way, tell me you like everything about me?”  
Arthur, although now only in his underclothes, managed to strike a regal posture to rival the one he had in court. “Don’t be ridiculous, Merlin.” And with that, he stripped off the rest of his clothes and climbed into the bath that Merlin had summoned, ignoring the fact that since Merlin was no longer his manservant, casual nudity around him probably shouldn’t occur. After all, Merlin had just finished pouting about not being able to make his baths anymore, and keeping to the status quo was the best way to prevent further pouting, Arthur figured.

* * *

It took a little time, but everyone adjusted to the changes pretty well. Merlin was stepping more and more into his new role by the day, and with his clever suggestions, adapting the laws regarding magic was finally complete. The druids were even sending an envoy two months from now to discuss a treaty of reparations and resumed trade and alliance. Morgana had never been happier, and her ruthlessness at the negotiations table was quickly becoming legendary. Arthur had no idea how Fate had expected him to unite Albion without her on his side, her ambition was something to be reckoned with and he was infinitely glad that Merlin had gotten her to talk to him when he did.  
And if he saw a little less of Merlin because he was now busy with his own plights of responsibility rather than simply helping Arthur manage his, then that was generally made up for by the fact that they could now actually go drinking together, as friends did, or spend an entire evening just talking instead of each having to pretend they were working when really all they wanted to do was share space.  
Except.  
Except that Arthur would not infrequently find Morgana and Merlin sitting together in Merlin’s new room (“The First Sorcerer to the King doesn’t live in the back of the physician’s office, Merlin. You’ll move into the room next to mine!”) chattering animatedly about magic, and Arthur couldn’t help but feel a stirring of something angry and jealous deep in his gut.  
At first he chalked it up to protective instinct, after all Morgana was his sister, and Merlin was well… Merlin, and if either one hurt the other, he’d be in quite the predicament. Then he did a bit of introspection, and recognized that maybe it had something to do with the fact that this was one part of Merlin’s life that he could not share, or even hope to understand. It made a certain amount of sense, after all, that he might feel a bit cheated when someone who had access to every part of him and his life couldn’t return the favor. So he kicked himself for being a controlling git, because Merlin deserved his own interests and they really didn’t have to share everything, they were already as close as friends could be. Yet the jealousy lingered, quiet and skulking, tightening around his gut at inconvenient times.  
Then one day he spotted Guinevere chatting with Lancelot. Not alone, of course, they both seemed to take great care never to be alone together. Elyan was sitting next to Gwen, Leon across from her, and Lancelot next to him. They weren’t even talking directly to each other, rather they were both bickering goodnaturedly with Leon, Gwen speaking the most animatedly, with Lancelot adding in a comment here or there.  
Arthur watched Lancelot shooting Gwen shy looks when he thought she wasn’t looking, and Gwen leaning across the table towards him every time he spoke, even though it really wasn’t loud enough in the dining hall for her to need to do so. He remembered when he and Merlin had saved Gwen and Lancelot, and wondered whether whatever they hadn’t talked about concerning their time in captivity still wasn’t being talked about now.  
Clearly, Lancelot loved Gwen. But Arthur knew them both well enough that he didn’t believe either of them would act on any feelings they might have for each other out of loyalty to him. To his surprise, the idea struck him as remarkably sad. Gwen deserved all the happiness she could get really, as did Lancelot, and Arthur’s intuition told him that they might be happier if he got out of their way somehow. He waited for feelings of heartbreak or roaring jealousy at giving up Gwen to another man, but they didn’t come.  
Oh.  
_Oh._  
Gods, everything was such a mess.  
Never let it be said, however, that Arthur Pendragon didn’t clean up his messes. He had to deal with Gwen first, obviously. Even if she wasn’t who he wanted to talk to about this most, he needed to, or trying to do anything else would likely only make things much worse. He waited until Gwen had finished her meal, although impatience nearly made him forget propriety and pull her aside immediately. As soon as she bid the knights goodbye, however, he was at her side.  
“Things have been changing a lot recently,” he remarked.  
“You don’t have to tell me that! It’s still hard to believe sometimes. Merlin, a sorcerer!” She giggled.  
Arthur smiled softly. “It’s not so strange, once you get used to it. It’s made me realize some things. The changes, I mean. Although I suppose Merlin’s magic is a pretty significant part of the change, isn’t it?”  
Gwen gave him a canny look. “Is everything alright? You’re sounding the way I used to!”  
Arthur chuckled at that. “I’d like to talk to you about something, in private.”  
Gwen tensed slightly, worrying, doubtlessly, that there was some bad news from the borders. “Of course, let’s go to your chambers.”  
Arthur tried to give her a reassuring smile before walking with her to his chambers, and almost tried to console her with “It’s nothing bad, I promise,” but then thought better of it. Just because he thought it would lead to something good didn’t mean that what he was going to say would be easy for her to hear.  
When they arrived in his chambers, Gwen sat on a chair by his table and looked at him patiently. Gwen never pushed, which he always appreciated, but he suddenly realized how much more he enjoyed it when someone did push, as long as it was the right someone. Oh dear, yes, this had to be done. The sooner, the better.  
“Gwen, I’ve just realized something today. There is a great deal of difference between loving someone, and being in love with someone. Or, rather, there are a great many different types of love, and I’ve only just realized that I’ve been getting a couple of threads tangled. I love you. You would make a magnificent queen. But I find… I think I have always loved you more as a friend and companion. Our friendship has been intimate at times, yes, but I don’t think either of us ever really loved the other romantically. I don’t love you the way Lancelot does. Nor do you love me as you love him.”  
Gwen shook her head, denying the strayings of her heart guiltily. “No, you’re wrong Arthur. I do love you, and I know you love me, and Lancelot… he left instead of staying with me, he made his choice.”  
“He made the choice to step aside because he saw the same Queen Guinevere I did. He thought you were in love with me more than him. Self sacrificing idiot that he is. You deserve that, Gwen. You deserve someone who will do impossible things for you, even something as impossible as walking away. He’s been waiting for years Gwen, just on the off-chance you might need him for something, anything. He’d go to hell and back if you asked him. Isn’t that more important than some silly king and a crown?”  
“Now who’s being self-sacrificing?” Gwen chided gently. “If I decided to try loving Lancelot again, you’d be alone.”  
“I won’t be alone. I told you, threads got tangled. Thought I was in love with my friend.” He gestured to her. “Thought I was only friends with my… lover.” He blushed as he said it, mouth curling into a smile over the word. “You and Lancelot, you’re two sides of the same coin. So you go to your other half and tell him how you feel, and I’ll go to mine, and then we can both have what we want, what we deserve.”  
Gwen’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh Arthur… I do love you.”  
He embraced her warmly. “I know. I love you as well. I love your council, and I love your quiet strength. I love the way you always seem to know when I need a bit of comfort and offer it in a way that somehow manages to never make me feel weak for taking it. I hope you will remain one of my closest and most trusted friends.”  
Gwen nodded against his chest, and he continued to hold her until her tears ran out. When she had pulled herself together though, she pulled away and looked at him with amusement. “So it’s a deal then, is it? I’ll talk to Lancelot, and you talk to the object of your affections and express your feelings, yes?”  
Arthur let out a deep breath, because of course she knew, and silently blessed her for choosing her words so carefully so as not to embarrass him by drawing attention to it. Yet, he knew that by making this move he was likely signing up for a lifetime of being embarrassingly full of feelings, so he nodded and said very deliberately, “Yes, you speak with Lancelot, and I’ll speak with Merlin, and we’ll get this whole mess settled.”  
Gwen smiled at him, and embraced him again, this time joyously. “Good luck!”  
“You too, Guinevere. Thank you.”

* * *

It took Arthur some time to find Merlin, and when he did, the sorcerer was chatting in a very familiar way with Gwaine, and now that Arthur knew where his jealousy was coming from it was a little easier to chase away, but only a little. He clapped Merlin’s arm, trying to perhaps seem more like he’d happened to spot him in passing than that he’d been actively looking for him, because love apparently made him stupid. “Merlin! Come by tonight, won’t you? I wanted to discuss a couple of things with you, nothing urgent, just a few things I thought you might like to know.”  
Merlin raised his eyebrows at him, but nodded. “Yeah, alright. Going to be a bit of a late night, but I’ll drop by when I can.”  
Arthur nodded back to him in acceptance, and then strode away purposefully as though he had someplace to be. He still caught Gwaine teasing Merlin, “Oh, invited to the king’s chambers! Every maid in the castle hopes for the honor.”  
“Shut up, Gwaine! It’s not like that. I used to serve him, remember? I lived more in his chambers than I did in my room, so we end up there together more often than not when we have a free moment. Old habits die hard, that’s all.”  
Arthur tried not to give too much credence to the slightly frustrated, slightly wistful tone he imagined he heard in Merlin’s words, as though perhaps he might wish that it were ‘like that’ after all. But that was probably just wishful thinking, so he banished it from his mind.  
When evening came, Arthur found himself battlefield tense as he waited for Merlin. He paced, and told himself to calm down. It was only Merlin. Only Merlin, who had put everything on the line and done more for Arthur than Arthur could possibly hope to repay. Only Merlin, who had been with him for so long, he no longer remembered what it was to be without his voice, in his ear or in his head, giving him council and insulting him fondly. What if, he wondered for a brief panicked moment, he was wrong? What if Merlin truly only ever wanted his friendship, and he was about to ruin it?  
But no, he had to trust his heart. When he’d been fretting over his and Gwen’s relative positions, Merlin had grinned at him reassuringly and told him to trust his heart, hadn’t he? Merlin, of all people, would understand. Even if he was mistaken, Merlin would hold no grudge. It might be awkward at first, but soon enough they could go back to having things as they once were, and then Arthur could… try to move on from there. Frightening and heartbreaking as that prospect was. Oh gods, he hadn’t realized he was in love more than six hours ago, and he was already turning into a massive girl!  
This was all Merlin’s fault.  
“Arthur, what’s wrong? You’re pacing,” Merlin worried from the door.  
“Come in, close the door. It’s all your fault. You took too long, which meant I was waiting, which meant I was thinking, and I know you’re what you’re going to say so I’ll just say it for you, I believe we both know just how well thinking tends to go for me.”  
Merlin gave a surprised laugh. “Never thought I’d hear you admit to that!”  
“Shut up Merlin, I never said it was true! But, on second thought, I have been a bit of a blind idiot in regards to certain things.”  
“Like my magic,” Merlin offered.  
“Like your magic,” Arthur agreed. Bantering with Merlin seemed to calm him down enough that he could at least stand in one place. Had Merlin known it would? Probably. Balance and turning point indeed. “And Lancelot and Gwen. I gave them my blessing today. I think I’ll likely be officiating their wedding before the month is out.” He smiled, finding himself genuinely happy at the prospect.  
“L-Lancelot and Gwen? But that was years ago! And you love her!”  
Arthur watched Merlin’s shocked expression with warm curiosity, looking for even the slightest hint that Merlin might be feeling anything besides incredulity at Arthur’s announcement. A twitch of happiness? A little flicker of hope? But all Arthur found was Merlin looking increasingly like he thought Arthur had gone mad.  
“I don’t love her the way he loves her, or the way she loves him. I think Gwen and I were always better suited as friends. I just don’t have a great number of close female friends, and so I believed the affection I felt for her was romantic. It actually took seeing her talking and laughing with Lancelot for me to work it out. There she was, happy and excited, and I didn’t have an immediate burning need to somehow be a part of it. I was just glad someone was making her happy.”  
Merlin peered at him curiously. “What about you though, don’t you deserve to be happy?”  
“You know, that’s almost exactly what she said? I’ll be fine, Merlin. I’ve got you, don’t I?” He gave Merlin a smile that was probably entirely too soppy by half, but the shy smile that he got in return was worth it, especially when he spotted- there it was! Just the tiniest bit of hope, peeking out and then darting away again before it could grow too big and risk being burst. Yes, Merlin wanted something more than friendship, Arthur was almost sure of it now! The boost of confidence allowed him to relax enough to lounge down into a chair by the fireplace, which was already crackling away merrily even though Arthur hadn’t seen wood in it, let alone a fire when he entered. _Bloody sorcerers,_ he thought fondly.  
“I thought you preferred brighter company,” Merlin joked lightly, walking over to join him by the fire and settling into the chair facing Arthur’s.  
“If I wanted anyone else’s company, I’d find it. I like yours,” Arthur said simply.  
After a beat of companionable silence, Merlin said “I’ve been working on what to offer the druids. I mean nothing can really give back what we took, but there must be some way to satisfy them, musn’t there?”  
Arthur groaned. “I don’t want to think about that tonight. Merlin… tell me a story, Merlin.”  
“Are you drunk?”  
Arthur wasn’t, but it seemed like a decent cover in case his advances were less welcome than he hoped. “Maybe a bit. Thought it would help, with the pacing and the thinking.”  
“Alright then, what kind of story do you want?”  
“One where the brave sorcerer risks his life to save the handsome prince,” Arthur said, tone light and teasing.  
Merlin laughed. “Egotistical much?”  
“I’m serious! You keep saying things about how I have no idea about the things you’ve done for me, so tell me some of them.”  
Merlin smirked. “Alright. In a land of myth and a time of magic, the fate of a kingdom rested on the shoulders of a young boy. His name, Merlin. On the day our tale begins, Merlin was accompanying his prince, Prince Arthur, whom all the court agreed was the handsomest prat they had ever had the displeasure of meeting- Oi! Whack me again and I’ll end the story on a cliff hanger and never tell you the rest!- Anyway, he was accompanying his prince on a hunt, when they came upon a father and daughter being attacked by bandits...”  
Arthur lost himself in the music of Merlin’s tale, the warm fire making him feel as if he maybe was a bit drunk with its persistent warmth that made his whole body unwind. He had so few memories of Sophia’s visit that it could almost really be a fairy-tale Merlin was telling, though he still blushed while hearing about his behavior when he’d been enchanted. It was embarrassing.  
“So, with Arthur saved, the sorcerer returned to his duties, unthanked but content in the knowledge that his prince would live another day,” Merlin finished.  
“And when the prince, who was now the king, finally after many years learned of all his brave sorcerer had done in devotion to him, did he reward him for his loyalty and service?” Arthur asked.  
Merlin smiled warmly. “He was given a title, an official royal post that meant he could go on protecting his king, but now without fear or guilt. And he was given the chance to change the kingdom into a place safe for magic, where it could flourish in peace.”  
“Those were rewards granted by the princess, not the king,” Arthur reminded him. “Surely there must have been something the sorcerer wanted, after all those years? Surely he knew that though he teased him, his king found him dearer to his heart than any other, and would deny him nothing, if he asked?”  
Merlin’s eyes widened, and he swallowed, throat working slowly as though it had suddenly gone dry. Arthur held back the sudden desire to taste Merlin’s adam’s apple, but only just, and might not have succeeded had Merlin not looked away, cheeks flushing. “What more could he ask, than that dearness? And to be ever at his side?”  
Arthur hummed, and slid forward in his chair slowly until his face was but a few scant inches from Merlin’s. “Well, I don’t know much about stories, but I think that generally, when there is a brave hero that saves the life of a princess, or king as the case may be, it is customary for said royal to reward their savior with a kiss, if it is wanted.”  
Merlin looked up into Arthur’s gaze at that, suddenly very alert. He licked his lips, and Arthur only just held himself back to wait for a spoken answer. “One kiss, for so many years of service? Hardly seems fair.” His voice was hoarse, and made Arthur’s heartbeat pound through his entire body.  
“Well if even the sorcerer lost count of how many times he rescued the king, a full recompense might take some time. Of course, it rarely ends at one kiss, you know. There is often a wedding, at the end of these tales, is there not?”  
“The sorcerer already made his vows. He has belonged to the king from the beginning. He wouldn’t need any public ceremony, only his king’s vow, murmured by the firelight. If he wished to make it, that is.” Merlin ducked his head shyly, but still peered up at Arthur through his lashes as though he couldn’t quite take them away. It struck Arthur then that Merlin’s eyes were the exact color of a merlin falcon’s wing.  
“What if the king wanted a ceremony? What if he wanted all his kingdom to know of the love and devotion he and his sorcerer shared?” Arthur murmured.  
“The priests of the new religion would not set foot in the castle to unite two men, but perhaps they could persuade a certain princess who also was a priestess of the old religion to bind their hands and their hearts in an older ceremony.” Merlin was trembling slightly, and a tear slipped down his cheek. Arthur reached out to dry it with his thumb, and caressed Merlin’s face carefully.  
“Merlin, what’s wrong?”  
Merlin shook his head. “Nothing. I’m just happy.” He uttered something that might have been a chuckle or a sob- perhaps it was a bit of both.  
“May I kiss you, Merlin?”  
Merlin nodded shakily, interrupted in the middle of the second nod by Arthur’s hands on either side of his face, stilling him so that their lips met perfectly.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the rom-com commence.

The dragon had been right, of course, nothing was easy. Monsters still attacked, battles still took place, and though they loved each other, or perhaps because they did, Merlin and Arthur still fought. Arthur had been right too, though, and with Merlin and Morgana there by his side, whatever conflicts arose were overcome eventually.  
It took a year for Morgana to persuade Morgause to join the sorcerers to the crown, and another few months before she settled in. A turning point had been when Arthur had asked her to help teach his knights a few things. He was still genuinely surprised, however, when he said, “We might not like each other, but we are family. You’re my sister’s sister, after all. May I call you cousin?” and she had curtly told him that he could.  
She had not been part of the wedding party for his handfasting to Merlin, but she had been seated in the front row, for which he was glad as he knew that Morgana was nervous about performing it. Morgause, being her mentor, had been a steadying influence.  
One of the loudest supporters among the nobility, both for the changed policy on magic and Arthur’s more personal choice of marrying Merlin, was Elena Godwyn. Arthur had embraced her afterwards, saying “Thank you for your support, I’m a lucky man to count you as a friend.”  
“I said all I wanted was for us to both find love, didn’t I? Now half my wish has come true, so it’s only a matter of time before the other half follows!” She beamed.  
“Visit any time you want!” A slightly tipsy Merlin had told her later. He then leaned in conspiratorially. “You know, Morgana’s gotten really good at magic. You should ask her to teach you a few things.”  
Which was how Camelot castle wound up housing a new semi-regular resident at least twenty days out of the month on any given month. Not that anyone was complaining, besides Morgana. Elena was lovely, but Merlin was growing a bit tired of having Morgana groan at him about how clumsy or absent-minded her student was.  
“You’re only coming to me because you know you’ll get no sympathy from Gaius, he had to teach me!” he griped back at her one morning.  
“Would you please at least tell Gwaine to stay the hell away from my apprentice? He’s a bad influence.”  
Gwaine and Elena got along like a house on fire. Any tavern party planned by the two of them (and no party wasn’t a tavern party when it came to the two of them) infamously always wound up with someone naked, someone vomiting, and someone shagging someone else in the loo. They went for rides together, sat on a wall and made catcalls together, it was a little disturbing how they seemed to almost integrate into a single entity.  
So Merlin was a little nonplussed when he informed Gwaine that Morgana was worried about her student’s virtue, and he just laughed.  
“Nah, it’s not even like that! We just, we have fun is all! Totally non-deflowering related fun. I didn’t even realize you could have this much fun with a girl if you weren’t deflowering her! It’s brilliant! And she’s already told me that she has absolutely no interest in anything I’ve got to offer, so I don’t have to worry about trying to be impressive, or a gentleman. She’s like one of the guys, only nicer!”  
Merlin gave him a bemused smile. “Alright, just maybe encourage her to spend a little more time focusing on her magic, Morgana is getting frustrated.”  
“Hey, it’s not Ellie’s fault Morgana has a fuse shorter than my five-o'clock shadow. She needs to get her magic wand out of her ass. Percy has been in a similar party-pooper strop lately, so that’s one more thing Ells and I have in common. So we’re commiserating. We might be the disaster friends, but being the disaster friends together is a lot more fun than trying not to be the disaster friend on your own.”  
Merlin punched Gwaine’s arm lightly. “You’re not a disaster! And neither is Elena. Can you just… try to find a better balance between indulgence and responsibility, please? You know your friends are only nagging because they care, don’t you?”  
Gwaine grimaced. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t see what the problem is. Everything was fine last week, and then suddenly overnight my drinking is a problem, and excessive, and dangerous, and how dare I pull such a sweet innocent flower down my filthy rabbithole of debauchery? ...That came out a lot more sexual than I intended. The point is, Percy’s an arse.”  
“Maybe he’s feeling a bit jealous,” Merlin suggested.  
“Over… Elena? I don’t think so…”  
“No, Gwaine, over you. He’s been your best friend for ages, because the two of you complement each other so well. Now suddenly you’re spending all this time with Elena, with all your attention focused around her, he’s got to be feeling a bit left out. Take him to the Rising Sun for drinks tomorrow, just the two of you, let him know that just because you have a new friend doesn’t mean you’re getting snatched away by the sidhe from the rest of your friends forever. That’s my advice, anyway.”

* * *

“What are you doing?” Morgana demanded, as Elena smushed about her face in the mirror. This was a far cry from a childish game of making faces in the mirror, Elena had cast a spell that rendered her facial features clay-like, and was now experimenting by molding them into different shapes.  
“Disguise spell,” Elena replied cheerfully.  
“That’s… I can’t do that spell! How did you manage it?”  
“Probably the whole changeling sidhe glamour thing, I’ll bet I can do all kinds of disguise and self-transformation magic!” Elena bounced up and down gleefully.  
“Would you care to explain why you’re using one of the most volatile disguise spells there are without my supervision?”  
“I’m going to the Rising Sun.”  
“With Gwaine?”  
“No! Well, sort of. I’m going to spy on Gwaine. And Percy.” Elena put the last few finishing touches on her face, which now looked almost nothing like her. She looked almost elven, with a long nose and high cheekbones. “What do you think? Will they recognize me?”  
Morgana shook her head. “No, but you’re going to stand out like that. Make yourself look more plain. Think of the cook, or some regular village girl with pockmarks on her cheek. That’s what you want.”  
Elena frowned, but obediently began molding her face into something a little dougheyer and unremarkable. “I know, I just… I’ve had enough of being plain.”  
“You’re not plain,” Morgana protested softly. “You’re very-”  
“I know, cute. People who like me and want to be nice say I’m cute. Or maybe I have pretty eyes. Or maybe I’m really nice, you know, as a friend. No one’s ever really called me beautiful though. Nurses and dads don’t count, and neither does Gwaine because he can find the beauty in just about anyone. He’s actually very sweet under the whole rascal routine.”  
“I was going to say you’re very lovely, actually.” Morgana smiled at Elena, and then pressed her finger into her nose, making it snubbed and letting it stay that way. “So why are you disguising yourself, I reiterate, with a very volatile spell, to spy on Percival and Gwaine?”  
Elena produced a leatherbound notebook from beneath her skirt. “I’m taking bets, of course! Right now the most bets are on…” She flipped through the book. “Percy snogging Gwaine at an hour and ten.”  
“What?” Morgana asked.  
“Well… the closer I sit to Gwaine, the huffier Percy always gets. And Gwaine is always finding reasons to touch Percy. And Percy isn’t very talkative, but Gwaine is, and I started keeping a tally one day of how many times they said each person’s name in a given day, both in each other’s presence and out of it. Gwaine says Percy’s name about twice as many times as anyone else’s when he’s with him, and that number- not the ratio, the number- almost triples when he’s not around. Percy says Gwaine’s name about three times as much as anyone else’s, and that ratio is consistent whether he’s around or not. Also the huffier Percy gets, the more reckless and sulky Gwaine gets. Conclusion based on this evidence: they both have the hots for each other but neither are willing to admit it. They might not even realize it. But now, tonight, they are going to the Rising Sun together, just the two of them! I have odds on who kisses who and how long into the date it takes them to do it, all written up right here!”  
Morgana gave Elena a puzzled look. “You believe Gwaine has the hots for Percival, and you’re taking bets on it? Aren’t you… bothered?”  
Elena frowned at her. “No, of course not. Who ever Gwaine finds happiness with, I’ll be happy for him! Honestly Morgana, you married your brother to Merlin, I thought you’d be more open minded!”  
“No, I meant, I thought the two of you were a bit of an item. Perhaps not courting in the most traditional sense, but certainly doing the dance.”  
Elena snorted out a sputtering laugh. “Me and Gwaine? Gross! No!”  
“Really?” Morgana asked skeptically. “Because you know, that’s what every girl says right before she gets drunk one too many times and winds up naked with the same man she said ‘no way’ to.”  
“Not me. Trust me Morgana, I am in no danger of compromising myself. Even if HMS Gwain weren’t sailing directly for Percy cove, we’d still be using totally different maps.”  
“Have you been taking enigmatic riddle lessons from the Great Dragon without telling me?” Morgana asked accusingly.  
“So anyway, I’m off to go observe and make sure I get the winnings to all the right people! Want to put anything down? You already know the favorite- hour and ten, Percy. Runner up is Gwaine, within the first minute. There’s a few people betting on nothing at all happening, the spoilsports, but hey, anything goes!”  
“No, I don’t think I want to put anything down. I think I’ll come help you observe,” Morgana said with a wicked smile.

* * *

Morgana had used an aging spell to disguise herself, so to anyone else at the tavern they looked like a daughter taking her old mum out for dinner and a pint. They faked chatter to support this about Roger, Elena’s fictional husband, and Lucy, Lucky, and Kevin, her three fictional children. Morgana complained loudly of bone pains, and how expensive the medicine was, until a middle-aged woman offered her a copper coin. Morgana accepted it, and then sneakily levitated a gold coin from her own bag into the woman’s when she wasn’t looking.  
They had gotten there early, and were there for a good ten minutes before Gwaine and Percival arrived. Percival entered first and claimed a seat at the table not five feet from their own, which had Elena grinning behind her hand to Morgana.  
Gwaine joined him a moment later, his back mostly to them as he sat facing Percival. They spent ten minutes just drinking their drinks and swapping the usual sort of knight talk about swords and news about the kingdom, but the conversation started to get interesting when Gwaine put down his tankard and said “Hey, thanks for coming out with me tonight. I promise not to drink so much you have to carry me home again. Three ale limit, on my honor as a knight.”  
“Do whatever you want,” Percival said with a shrug. “I won’t be the one carrying you home though.”  
“Oh, don’t give me that! I’m sorry I’ve been spending too much time with Elena and neglecting our friendship, alright? I swear, she isn’t going to abduct me away from you, or any of my other friends.”  
“Merlin gave you a little talking to, did he?”  
Gwaine chuckled wryly. “Yeah, maybe. He wasn’t wrong though, I haven’t been a great friend to you recently. I could tell something was bothering you, but I chose to just ignore it and have fun and just hope you sorted it out yourself. I’m sorry.”  
“No, it’s… it’s my problem, not yours. You shouldn’t have to deal with it. I’m sorry I yelled at you and… said all those things. I don’t actually think any of that about you, you know, I just. Yeah, it’s me who should be sorry, letting my issues mess up your fun.”  
“What’s wrong?” Percival looked away and tried to shrug it off, so Gwaine caught his forearm in his hand and squeezed until he looked back at him. “Whats. Wrong. Percy.”  
Percival shrugged again, but this time he kept eye contact. “Are you going to marry her?”  
Gwaine half choked, and then turned it into a scoff. “What? Who? Have you met me?”  
“Elena. Yes, I’ve met you, and I’ve seen how you are around her. She’s different from the other girls you’ve been with, you’re different with her. So, it’s a question worth asking. Are you going to marry her?”  
“Ohhh, mate! Maybe I would, if she’d have me. She’s such a blast, isn’t she? But aside from being far, far too good for me, her heart is spoken for. And even if it weren’t, I am not what she’s looking for.”  
Percival’s brow knitted. “Why not? What are you talking about, you have noble blood, why wouldn’t you be what she’s looking for? And you’re plenty good enough, for anyone! She’s fun, you’re fun, why wouldn’t she want you?”  
Morgana raised an articulate eyebrow at Elena that conveyed _‘Alright, I see what you mean about Percival, he’s definitely in deep, but Gwaine?’ _Elena flashed back her diabolical _‘wait and see!’ _grin. Which then dropped immediately, as Gwaine replied.____  
“Well, she’s a bit ass over tits for Morgana, you see.”  
Elena knew that her notebook would in no way be conducive to self-asphyxiation, but she decided to give it a try anyway, burying her face between its pages. She kicked the chair leg repeatedly, until she heard Morgana tell someone, “I’m sorry, my daughter has fits. She’s always fine afterward, except for feeling a little fuzzy. Thank you for your concern.” After that, she sat up miserably, and focused very hard on the doodle she was working on in the notebook, deciding that as long as she didn’t have to look Morgana in the eye, everything would be alright.  
At least here, in disguise, Morgana wouldn’t confront her right away. Unless it would have been better if she did get it over with right away. This way, Morgana had time to think and plan and calculate the best way to let Elena down, and the thought of those bland, perfectly crafted platitudes being poured over her like syrup as her heart was breaking was enough to make her lose her appetite.  
When she stopped dying of embarrassment to tune back into Gwaine and Percival’s conversation, she nearly ripped the paper with her quill.  
“But they’re so different!” Percival was saying.  
“Sometimes that’s part of the attraction, though. I mean, you can have fun with just about anyone, but if you’re in something for the long haul then you want someone whose strengths cover your weaknesses, and whose weaknesses cover your strengths. It’s like… remember all that coin shite Arthur was spouting at his wedding? It’s like that. You want someone who’s got ridges where you’ve got grooves, so it all balances out. Me marrying Elena would be awful, even if she were interested in men, because we’re too much the same. We’d end up hating each other in three years, guaranteed. If I ever went with someone for keeps, I’d probably want someone a lot like you.”  
Percival choked on his ale. “Me?” He asked breathlessly.  
“Well, aside from the fact that you’re no more interested in this-” He gestured to himself, making a little circle around the groin area in particular- “than Elena is, yeah. I mean, not that- You don’t have to worry, I won’t- I like what we have.”  
_See? Told you!_ Elena wrote in her notebook, scratched out, and then wrote again, quickly passing it to Morgana before she could change her mind again. Not daring to look up at her companion still, Elena waited until she was sure Morgana had enough time to read the note, and then snatched her book back. She could feel Morgana giving her an amused arched eyebrow though, and resumed doodling with fervor.  
“I don’t think I ever told you that,” Percival said softly.  
“What?”  
“That I wasn’t interested, in that.” Percival made a small but somehow encompassing gesture at Gwaine.  
“Are you fucking with me right now?” It was Gwaine’s turn to sound breathless. “Because if you are, I swear, Percy…”  
“Well no, I’m not fucking with you _right_ now,” Percival said, tone amused. “But if you’d like to split the price of a room upstairs I think that could be arranged.”  
“Cerridwen's cavernous cunt, Percy. Screw the shit hotel room, we’re going to mine!” Gwaine said. He stood, grabbing for Percy’s arm to try an tug him along.  
“Alright, let me just pay for our drinks.” A beat of silence as Percival counted out the coin, and then. “And just so there aren’t any misunderstandings later… I don’t get involved with someone if I don’t see the potential of… how did you put it? Going with them for keeps? What does that even…? The point is, you said marriage and I said fuck, and I want you to know that’s not all I’m after here.”  
“Good. Great. Excellent. Perfect. Now come on!” Gwaine hauled Percival out of the tavern.  
“Well they didn’t snog, but that definitely wasn’t nothing,” Morgana finally said wryly, clearly amused.  
“No… based on their haste, I’d say they’ll be kissing the moment they’re out of the public eye though. Gwaine’s place is ten minutes from here, clip that down to eight because they’re hurrying, which puts us at… wow, twenty eight minutes? That’s all? It seemed a lot longer.” Elena cringed then, suddenly remembering just what had made a few seconds feel like an eternity as they waited for Gwaine and Percival to get their act together.  
“Elena,” Morgana’s voice was soft, patient, and undeniable. She could have told twenty people to jump off a bridge in that tone and they’d have done it. “Look at me.”  
Elena furtively looked up into Morgana’s face. Seeing her old wasn’t off-putting, it only fed breadcrumbs to the crush-manic part of her that clung onto that image with the thought of _this is what she’ll look like when we grow old together!_ The logical part of her could say that they wouldn’t be getting old together as much as it wanted, the crush-manic part didn’t care. She bit her lip, waiting expectantly.  
Morgana took a breath as though to say something, and then let it out in an irritated huff. “Fuck, I can’t do this while we’re both in disguise, come on!”  
Elena allowed Morgana to tow her along around to the back of the inn where no one would see them drop their spells, mostly out of shock. She had never heard Morgana swear before. It was one of the most intimidating(ly hot) things about her, the way she could insult someone so thoroughly they were left trembling and begging for mercy, all without uttering a single profanity.  
Morgana drank the counter potion for her aging spell, and went to help Elena unmask her own disguise (an even more unpleasant and fiddly process than reversing the aging spell) only to find Elena already her normal self.  
“So this is what it takes to get you properly motivated to study transformation magic, is it? Gambling on our friends’ love lives?”  
Elena blushed. “Gwaine doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He was probably just saying things, you know, to get Percy to stop being mad at him.”  
“Yes, and then he used a powerful enchantment to make you look like a blushing maiden whose crush has been reading her diary. It seems I’ll have to teach you how to put on a decent poker face, as well as all the rest, won’t I?” Morgana’s tone was amused, but soft, not in the least bit mocking. Elena took comfort in that.  
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’ll leave Camelot and find a different teacher, if you want.”  
Morgana clutched her by the shoulders. “You will do no such thing. Elena. Look me in the eye. You will do no such thing. Disrupting your studies for anything short of a dire emergency would be irresponsible. Let your emotions get in the way of what you need and want and you’ll never have anything. You have to be stronger than that, Elena, if you want to be a woman and survive in this world, even if you are a sorceress.”  
Elena wanted to cry. But she took Morgana’s words to heart, and swallowed the feeling down, raising her chin up proudly as she squared her shoulders. Morgana nodded her approval.  
“Good, now watch me. This is how you should have done it.” Morgana put on her politest listening face, and then pretended to hear something that confused her from over her shoulder. She looked, ducked her head, and looked again. Then she snorted out laughter. “He must really want to convince Percy we’re not together! Ass over tits? Really Gwaine? Ugh, that man sometimes, I swear!” She gave Elena a small, mischievous, conspiratorial smile that made this feel like their own private joke. “He’s the one who’s ass over tits!” Then, just as suddenly as she had stepped into character, Morgana stepped out of it, shrugging it off like a snake discarding skin.  
“Is that your impression of me?” Elena asked softly.  
Morgana shrugged. “The best I could do, anyway. Haven’t managed to get all the little quirks just right yet.”  
“You’ve been practicing talking like me?”  
“Not _to_ anyone, not to mock you. I just… the way I do things, I can pry anything out of anyone given enough time, but everyone always knows that beforehand, they’re guarded. Even you are guarded around me, or I would have noticed your feelings. And you… you disarm people so easily. All it takes is a smile and they’re pudding in your lap. All your endearing little quirks, they make people want to trust you. What I have to pry from neigh-dead hands, they give you freely and ask if there’s anything else they might be able to get you. I wanted to see if I could learn how. I… I wanted to learn how to be as easy to love as you are.”  
Elena shook her head. “But everyone loves you!”  
“No, they respect me, I make sure of it. Maybe they find me attractive, but they all know what I really am, venomous. The stable boys all ran away as soon as they saw me when I was a girl, and it’s no different now. They might stare with awe, but I make their blood run cold. You make everyone feel warm and happy. I don’t think there’s a single person that’s met you who doesn’t love you, at least a little. It seems to simply be a natural result of your presence.”  
Elena snorted. “If only that were true!”  
“No? Pay attention the next time you walk into a room somewhere. I really don’t think it’s just me.”  
“Mor-Morgana, are you telling me you love me?”  
“Yes, I really think I do. It’s a bit inconvenient, you know, not that it’s your fault.”  
Elena tried to kiss Morgana, but rushed in too fast and ended up catching her lip with her teeth. “Oh, sorry!”  
Morgana put her hands on Elena’s shoulders, holding her in place. She sighed. “Oh, my clumsy, impulsive, scatterbrained, brilliant Elena. You have so much to learn.” She leaned down slowly, and placed a proper kiss on the startled ‘o’ of Elena’s mouth.

____

* * *

“What’s all this then?” Merlin asked as Morgana brought a stack of carefully marked tomes into the room next to his and Arthur’s, which was now his study.  
“I thought we might discuss options for succession,” Morgana replied cheerfully. “I’ve found a few spells that might do the trick, although a couple of these are a bit… dubious.”  
“I thought Arthur named you heir to the throne so that he and I wouldn’t have to worry about all that.”  
“Yes, and if you really don’t want to, you don’t have to, but I thought you might like to know all the options.” Morgana thrust one book forward. “This one doesn’t even involve magic at all.”  
“I’m not transforming myself, any part of myself, into a woman for nine months!” Merlin warned.  
Morgana raised her eyebrows, but nodded, and set two of the books off to the side. “Alright, what about this spell?” She opened the book up on his table and flipped to the appropriate page. The picture next to the spell showed two people of indeterminate gender both putting their hands on a woman’s belly. The text described a combining of essence, making it so that the child the surrogate bore would be the result not of her body and one of the other people, but rather the result of the two people who lent their essence to the spell. Merlin read it carefully.  
“If we did use a spell, I think it would be this one. ...I’d have to talk about it with Arthur.”  
“You have a big heart, Merlin. You would make a good parent, I think.”  
“Why all this research now though? I thought you and Arthur had agreed that whenever you found someone, you’d be responsible for the succession.”  
“Can’t I do something just for curiosity’s sake?”  
“No, and I find your evasiveness suspicious. What’s going on, Morgana? Is something wrong?”  
“No, things have been going splendidly. Elena may seem clumsy, but it turns out she can be quite dexterous with her fingers! I’ve discovered she can be quite a brilliant student, really, given the proper motivation.”  
“I’m glad you two are finally getting along, but I think you’re not telling me something. Are… have you gotten involved with someone?” Morgana gave him a long, frank look. “What?”  
“You know Merlin, loath though I am to admit my brother is right, about anything, I think you might actually be an idiot.”  
“Sometimes, yeah.”  
Morgana put her hand on his shoulder. “Let’s put it this way. The only way that I am producing an heir is if I use one of these spells.” She picked up one of the books she’d set to the side, and shook it at him slightly. Merlin gave her a confused look. “Because yes, I am involved with someone.” She gave another pause, waiting for the penny to drop. “I was being very smug about it just a moment ago.”  
Merlin’s eyes went wide. Then he screwed up his face in disgust. “Ahhh, why did you have to tell me that? I don’t want to think about Elena’s fingers like that! No! Why?”  
Morgana gave him a simpering smile that veiled her smug self-satisfaction very poorly indeed. “Just paybay for me having to hear you go on about how fantastic and oblivious Arthur was all that time before I made you tell him about your magic, darling.”  
“Well I guess, I’m glad you’re happy. You are, right?”  
“Of course. Don’t tell Arthur yet though, Elena has been taking bets on how long it will take him to figure it out.”  
“Oh, in that case,” Merlin dug a handful of coin out of his purse. “Put me down for the two of you actually having to kiss in front of him.”  
“Really? My bets are on Gwaine telling him. Or at least, telling him enough that he figures out the rest on his own.”  
“Oh… yeah, that conversation I had with him about her suddenly makes a lot more sense now, yeah. You know, I did sort of invite her to Camelot because I thought the pair of you would be good for each other. I guess I didn’t know just how right I was!”  
“Well if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to change a bet with Elena. If it took me telling you outright to work it out about her and me, I think I need to bet on somewhere next to never on you finding out about- well, another couple of our friends.”  
“There’s more?” Merlin asked.  
“Yes, Merlin, there’s more. I think perhaps you and Arthur started something. I entirely blame all that gibberish Arthur was saying about coins. I’m still not sure I understand all of it, but it was very soppy and romantic, and I think it made us all realize some things about what it is we really wanted. Or maybe it just has to do with the fact that the king has married his manservant, and next to that, nothing is too scandalous, or too impossible.”  
Merlin laughed. “Yeah, maybe.”

* * *

Merlin probably wouldn’t have figured it out so quickly, if Morgana hadn’t said anything. Because the thing was, very little changed at first. Gwaine had always been touchy-feely with others, and Percival, being one of the people closest to him both in relationship and in proximity most of the time, had always born the brunt of his affection with amused indulgence. Gwaine still drank, still flirted outrageously with the barmaid, but now when the barmaid actually flirted back, his gaze went to Percival. Percival nodded, and he carried on, or he frowned, and Gwaine stopped.  
On one occasion where Percival nodded, Elena shot the large man a confused look. “Aren’t you worried he’s going to go too far with her?”  
Percival shrugged. “He can have fun with just about anyone, it’s one of the things we all like about him so much. I’m not going to try and change that.”  
Elena might not have understood, if she hadn’t overheard their conversation at the tavern. “That’s very mature of you, Percy.”  
Percival gave her a smirk. “I’ll still be the one seeing him home at the end of the night.”  
“I thought you were done carrying him to bed when he’s had one too many,” Elena teased.  
Percival blushed at that. “Yes, well.”  
“Elena,” Merlin said flatly. “You can tell whoever bet on now for me to figure out Gwaine and Percy that they’re a winner.”  
“Morgana told you about that? The cheater!” Elena squealed indignantly.  
Percival blushed harder.


End file.
